I never again will go down underground

“It’s a working man I am… and I never again will go down underground,” are lines from a song by Rita MacNeil. I had to have been no more than seven years old when I first heard that song. I never knew the true meaning of the song but I knew it meant much more to my father.

Since I can remember, I always had helped my father in our coal bin. I couldn’t stay away from it. I loved having my face and hands covered in dirt and soot. I looked just like my father when he came home from the pit, covered in black dirt. I can remember holding the flashlight as my father cleaned out the ashes from the furnace and carrying my little bucket of coal to the oven room to be burned. I just wanted to do what my father did because I looked up to him as a coal miner. I am and always have been proud to be a coal miner’s daughter. I always thought this way of life would forever be apart of our lives.

But I was wrong, it all stopped when the coal mines closed.

Between 1999 and 2001, the Cape Breton Development Corporation (DEVCO) announced that they were getting out of the coal industry. The last underground coal mine on Cape Breton Island closed in November 2001. The closing of the mines devastated the communities of Cape Breton. Since then, Cape Breton coal miners were forced into early retirement or left with no employment. The “lucky” ones were forced into call centers and forced to move elsewhere to find work.

Today, there are plans for the Donkin Mine to reopen. Xstrata Coal, a subsidiary of Switzerland's Xstrata Plc Group, has been awarded the right to develop the Donkin colliery by the provincial government. The project has been estimated by promoters to create hundreds of jobs for Cape Breton. It is also envisioned that the Donkin project will help provide activity for the Cape Breton and Central Nova Scotia Railway, whose railway line from Port Hawkesbury to Sydney has been unprofitable since the closure of the coal mines and steel plant.

When I first heard of this news one question came to mind, is it possible to go back to a place you had to leave behind? Hundreds of men and women who once lived this life of coal mining had to change their lives so quickly. Is it possible for them to return to the darkness of an underground mine?

With so many questions continually floating around in my mind, I knew I had to go back home to get the right answers.

Mary Miller, a coal miner’s wife, can remember when people went to work happy. She recalls a time when everyone in Glace Bay had a job. “Because the coal industry was the number one industry of employment, it helped the other industries,” said Miller. “It helped the fish plants, restaurants and the small stores survive. The town was booming with business opportunities.”

Miller said that after the mines closed there was nothing left for the coal miners. Most men entered the mines right after high school and they had no other form of training or education. Some families eventually moved away and some stayed and got whatever jobs they could find. “The sprit and life of the town is lost, life has changed, and we are no longer a town.”

Before I went back to Halifax, I decided to take a walk around the town of Glace Bay. I wanted to see how the business district was holding up and I wanted to hear what people were saying about the Donkin Mine.

I walked into a small clothing store and began to look around. I asked how business was. A lady replied with a little laugh and said slow. At three o’clock in the afternoon, I was her first customer. As I walked from store to store I kept getting the same vibe from everyone. Business is slow.

While sitting in Tim Hortons, I spoke with a man who spent most of his life in the pit. Angus MacDonald, a retired coal miner, can remember the darkness of the mine like it was yesterday. “The day I walked into the coal mine for the very first time, it grabbed a hold of me and to this day I have never been able to shake it,” said MacDonald. “The blackness of an underground mine is something you cannot forget.”

MacDonald’s son Daniel is planning to apply for a job in the pit once the opportunity becomes available. MacDonald does not like the idea of his son following in his foot steps. “Everyday we went to work we forgot the risks about working underground and because I love my son I want to protect him and keep him away from there.” Despite his fathers wishes Daniel still plans on applying for a coal mining job.

Most people in Glace Bay are hopeful that the Donkin Mine will help bring life back into the community. It is estimated that around 300 mining jobs will be made available once the Donkin Mine opens. This will in turn bring business back to Glace Bay and the surrounding areas.

Least but defiantly not last, I spoke to my father, J. MacLean. He told me that the Donkin Mine is one of the best mines in Cape Breton. The mine has a 10 foot seam and has over 40 years of good coal. Long wall mining will be done within a 700 foot wall.

“Cape Breton is full of good coal and full of unemployed coal miners and for years we have watched imported coal arrive in Sydney to be burned in our homes,” said MacLean.

My father is optimistic that the Donkin Mine will bring people back to Cape Breton. However, he said it is not enough to keep everyone here. “The mine will not be the same mine we worked in years ago,” said MacLean. He mentioned the new high technology and equipment that will be used. It will not be all man-worked anymore. Nonetheless, it will be good for Cape Breton.

So, now after all my research and findings, I looked at my question once again, is it possible to go back to a place you had to leave behind? My answer is yes and no. I learned that physically, 300 men and women will be going back underground after seven years of Cape Breton mines being closed. Emotionally, after all these years something was lost and I don’t think 300 new jobs will fix that. When those mines closed in Cape Breton, hope was lost and it ripped the heart and soul out of the community.

I look at my father and he is 60 years old now. He looks tired and worn out. All those years in the pit did a number on him. Twenty years later, I am still helping my dad shovel coal. But it is different now. Something has changed about the way he handles the coal. Years ago he could carry two buckets of coal at a time and now he can barely handle one. This coal is imported and the smooth black jagged edges weren’t chipped away by the hands of a Cape Breton coal miner. This imported coal is a constant reminder to him, to me of a livelihood that we have lost and unsure whether we will truly have it back again.

When the mines closed in 1999, I asked my father if he was still a coal miner, he looked at me and said, I am a coal miner at heart but I never again will go down underground.

Feature Story

My feature story is going to be posted today. Please have some patience because I just wrote two big ass exams this week and I finally have the time to clean up my story. It will be posted TODAY!

A Stranger's Story

My name is Edward Jones. I am a husband and father of two beautiful girls. My wife and I have been married for ten years. I thought my life was complete and nothing in this world could take away my happiness. That is, until I met with my doctor.

At the end of 2006, I went to my doctor because I had a lump in my stomach. They took tests and told me it was just an infection and put me on antibiotics. Then a couple of months ago the lump returned. I went back to the doctor and expected it to be the same. They took the tests again and discovered it wasn't an infection, but that I had stomach cancer. They said it had always been there and that I had an infection around it.

It turns out it's incurable and that I do not have particularly long left. I'm on treatment, which is increasing my life span, but I still only have ten to fifteen years no matter what I do. Without treatment I would only have around five years.

I try not to let my emotions show around my two girls but sometimes I can’t help it. I get so angry because I don't know why I was the one to get this cancer. I can’t help but cry when I think about the things I will be missing. I will not see them dance at their prom or see them graduate from high school. I will not even get the chance to give them away at their wedding.

Leaving my wife scares me everyday. I know she is being strong but she hides her feelings so well. She always said, “We will live for today and not tomorrow.” I don’t know what I would do without her strength. If my health keeps up, I plan on taking my girls to Disney World. It is important that I create these wonderful memories now. It will give them something to hold on to when I am gone.

I still keep doing the things I enjoy. I watch hockey on Saturday night, I golf on Sunday afternoons and I take my wife on a date every Thursday night. I am holding on and doing okay for now but ask me in ten years and my story might change.

My advice to people is that if you have a lump or your family has a history of cancer like mine, go to your doctor and get it checked. It might not just save your life but your family’s life as well. Maybe God has a plan for me and maybe he doesn't but if I ever get the chance to ask him, I will ask him, why?

God Give Me Patience

I wake up every morning at the same time. My body and mind have become accustomed to it. The time you ask, it is 7:00am. I wake up at 7:00am because that is the time I have to get up in order to catch the bus to school.

I hate riding the bus. It's slow and it's usually nauseating. I think that most of the contagious diseases I've had in the last three years were acquired from riding the number 80 Sackville bus. There is no other option for me but to take the bus to school. My parents will not give me a car because I can not afford one. However, they are probably right.

I have to leave my apartment an hour early everyday just to make it to class on time. By car, this drive to school would only take me fifteen minutes. As soon as I step onto the bus I rapidly develop a headache. I can’t stand the motion of the bus. Up and down, up and down. It feels like I will throw up at any given moment. The motion sickness never fails. The condensed smell of cigarette smoke, perfume, food and God knows what else makes me choke.

As the bus begins to get packed I begin sweating under layers and layers of clothes. I have to dress this way because it is very cold waiting outside for a bus. They are never on time. I am now at the halfway mark and only 30 more minutes until I get to school.

The bus is not a happy place for me because I do not like to be so close to people I do not know. The thought of someone smelly and gross sitting next to me, makes me ill. As someone takes a seat next to me, I find myself jammed against the window. I can’t even move an itch because there is barley enough room for me to breathe. I am now starting to get very uneasy and I try not to scream at the person next to me because all I want them to do is move out of my way.

To make my bus ride to school even better, there are always crying babies on the bus. I say to myself, “That is why I am NEVER having children.” The crying is just enough for me to want to get off at the next stop and walk to school. It drives me insane.

Just as the bus comes to the Bedford Highway, I thank God for allowing me to get through this morning without saying or doing something I will regret later. I pull the cord to get off in front of the Mount and I wish the bus driver a wonderful day. Just as I start to think that the worst is over, I remember that in about three hours, I will have to go through the same thing all over again. God give me patience.

The History You Can Find in Such a Small Place

Someone once told me that when you enter the Savoy Theatre it is like stepping back in time. It was built in the nineteen-twenties, to the specifications of the famed Victorian show houses. Its history is built upon the performances of this century's greatest talents from Cape Breton, as well as the many renowned regional, nationwide, and global artists. Spectators and performers alike have admired the Savoy for its elegant, inviting setting and its outstanding acoustics.

The Savory Theatre represents the heritage and culture of Cape Breton. People visit the theatre to be entertained and educated. When you visit the Savoy Theatre you can sense the past artists and performers that have been there before you. The history of the Savoy is built into the walls and floors of the building. You can somehow feel their sprit and love as you look at their pictures next to the entrance hall.

When you are in the Savoy it always seems to be cold. No matter what time of year you are visiting the Savoy, you are always feeling a draft. When you enter the Savoy you take a deep breath and smell its history. The smell is like your grandmother’s attic. An attic filled with old books and wonderful memories.

As I walk down the isle to get to my place, I can’t help but hit the back of the other seats. The seats are made of red plush and they always seem to squeak when you sit in them. As I am walking by row B, I can’t help but notice how the material on the seats is very worn away. You think for a moment and wonder, who sat here before you? How many performances were presented in front of these seats?

When you are sitting in the Savoy, you hear a silence that is very comforting but sinister. As I close my eyes and put my head back, I can imagine the fiddles playing and the foot steps of those dancing to the music. You can’t help but dream when you are in such a place.

People return to the Savoy year after year because of that overwhelming feeling. The hospitality of the staff and community is astonishing; they make everyone feel at home. It seems as if you are sitting with people you have known your whole life.

The theatre represents true elegance. The theatre itself is painted with rich crimson with white and black accents. The style of the theatre is Victorian with stunning sculpture and design detailed. The ceiling has decorative cast iron chandeliers hanging as brightly and clearly as the day they were built. The staircase that leads to the balcony looks like something that was shown in the movie, “Gone with the Wind”. Everytime I walk up those stairs, I can’t help but feel like Scarlett O'Hara.

The Savory Threatre continues to be up-dated with today’s design and technology but the theatre continues to remain the same. You may walk into the theatre from today’s world but when you sit down and the curtain goes up, you are transformed back into the Victorian times. You can not help but feel elegant.

Unconditional Love

As teenagers we often do not appreciate the important things in life. We don’t care about such things as family, a good education or our health. As a teenage girl my friends came first over everything. I was too busy to spend time with my parents and too interested in boys and the mall. When my mom wanted to go to shopping or go to a movie with me, I was embarrassed to be seen with her. It was something that teenage girls did not appreciate or welcome. On the other hand, I always enjoyed spending time with my father. He never went through my personal things and never listened in on my phone calls. He just wanted to know that I was doing okay and that he was there if I ever needed anything. In high school sports were a big part of my life. I was on the girls’ rugby and soccer teams. My dad attended every game and always made time to help me practice.

My mother never attended a game and she never taught me how to play. I always wondered why she never attended my games or took any interest in what I enjoyed to do. However, that didn’t mean she was not there for other things in my life. Nonetheless, at that point in my life I was angry at her because she seemed to never be there.

My mother didn’t care about my sports or hobbies. She cared about my grades and image. She always pushed me to do better in school and realize that getting my education is my first priority. I knew I was going to get a good education but sports made it a lot easier to attend school. Three years later high school was over. I was now a university student with a full-time scholarship to the University College of Cape Breton (UCCB).

My mother’s wish finally came true; getting an education became my first priority. My involvement in sports stopped and it was now something I did for fun on the weekends. Even though I missed it, I think my father missed it even more.

I managed to rough out the three years at UCCB and receive my first degree. It was now time for me to move on with my life and leave home. I just wanted to get away from Cape Breton and leave everything behind. The summer before going away to Halifax was amazing. My friends and I partied every night and enjoyed each others company. Even at the age of 21 my friends came before my family. I spent all my time with them and never took a day out to hang out with my mom or my dad. I just knew I was going to miss my friends.

The day I left home was a sad one. Until that point I never seen my father cry and even that day my mother and I were fighting about something stupid. We said our goodbyes and I went on my way to the big city of Halifax. I can still remember crossing the MacDonald Bridge and having the feeling of wanting to throw up. This was definitely not Cape Breton. I made it through those first couple of months away from home but I always found myself going back whenever I had the chance. Being away from my parents made me realize how important they are to me, especially my mother. I missed the little things she use to do for me. She always made sure my work clothes were washed and pressed, made sure I always had money and always made sure I was taken care of.

I can remember one weekend that I went home. Even though I had my own money, my mother always insisted that she give me some for gas. Like always she had soap suds on her hands from doing the dishes and she asked me to go into her purse for some money. As I was digging my way through her wallet, I found something I had never seen before. It was a picture of me at my championship game in high school. She was there that day and took the picture. It was all worn out because she had been carrying it for three years in her purse. I never asked her about it because I knew at that moment she did care and that she had always been there through it all. I missed her just as much as she missed me. But, we just didn’t say anything to each other. Therefore, the biggest lesson I had finally learned from her was just because something is not said, it does not mean someone does not care. They just show it in their own way. I just never realized it before, that she was there for it all.